


she makes the sound the sea makes

by sternenrotz



Category: The Horrors (Band)
Genre: F/M, Gags, Light Dom/sub, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Vaginal Sex, babby's first het fic, is that a kink??, it should be, knickers used as a ball gag substitute more specifically, this is all a tumblr anon's fault
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-04
Updated: 2014-06-04
Packaged: 2018-02-03 10:09:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1740824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sternenrotz/pseuds/sternenrotz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Like this, in the dim light, she looks like some kind of porcelain doll above him, with thick dark eyelashes and pink lips and sex-flushed cheeks. He can't not think about how this girl of all people has got him like this, his head fuzzy and full of crackly static, like a flurry of snowflakes in his brain or the sound of radio static, limbs pliant and folded just how she likes it, and he</i> loves <i>it.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	she makes the sound the sea makes

**Author's Note:**

> titled after "Dissolve Me" by alt-J.
> 
> 5 months and 4 days into 2014, still haven't written a porn scene without vaginas in it. I know basically nothing about Rachel and this is the first really explicit het fic I've ever written so you know. I'm sorry

Rachel's pretty tough for a girl that small.

That's one of the things Faris likes about her, the thought he's rolling over in his head once again when she's keeping both his arms behind his back with one small hand while she's slowly, slowly rocking her hips down onto his cock, and it's not enough, not enough to keep him from making little whimpery noises in the back of his throat and try to thrust his hips up against her without losing his balance.

Like this, in the dim light, she looks like some kind of porcelain doll above him, with thick dark eyelashes and pink lips and sex-flushed cheeks, and that's more of that thought, really. He can't not think about how this girl of all people has got him like this, his head fuzzy and full of crackly static, like a flurry of snowflakes in his brain or the sound of radio static, limbs pliant and folded just how she likes it, and he _loves_ it. It's not as far under as he could be, though, so he offers his throat up for her to mark, like an animal submitting to a predator.

After what seems like too long, Rachel's fully seated on his hips, soft and slick and warm on his cock, and warm pressed up against his chest, too. With her free hand, she goes for the O ring on the collar he's wearing, uses both that and the hand behind his back to guide him to sit that bit straighter. Faris' shoulders square up when the motion makes her shift around him, tight and sweet and making it so hard to resist the urge to just fuck his hips right up. The muscles in the back of his neck strain against the urge to just let his head go along with her pull, and strain some more when the lace of her bra rubs scratchy against his already pinched sensitive nipples.

The lace of her knickers stuffed in his mouth is scratchy, too, flattening down his tongue and stretching his jaw open wide to get him right into helpless fuzzy space, but with his head tipped far, far back, it means that they're trying to slide farther down into his mouth, stiff texture tickling at the roof of it. Faris swallows and swallows, or at least attempts to swallow around the flimsy material and his own drool, steadily leaking from the corners of his lips with how just much there is, the faint tangy-sweet taste of cunt still in his mouth.

All that comes out is some gross gagging noise, though, so he focuses on the noises Rachel's making instead, soft little gasps with every tiny, tiny roll of her hips. She could probably make him come just like that, what's with how _full_ his cock already feels, ready to go off and straining against the thin barrier of the condom, like she'd been keeping him on the edge for a few hours now, but he won't. He'll be good.

"You're such a good boy," Rachel whispers against his neck right then, like she's reaffirming him with that. "Staying so still for me."

Her fingers dip from their hold on his collar to his adam's apple where it's still bobbing with every time he tries to swallow. He's still doing that, apparently, even when the knickers gagging him have faded back down into background noise. Like he's seeing things in tunnel vision with everything else blacked out by static, not real subspace just yet, and the next thing in what line of sight this is, Rachel's tipping his head up again.

"Hey?" she asks, small hand on his cheek, "you still okay for me?" and he blinks away what moisture must have welled up into his eyes and nods.

It hits Faris approximately a second later that that must have been the second time she asked, judged by the amount of concern on her face, so he nods a second time and tries to make a noise of affirmation, but it's muffled by the knickers still gagging him.

"Okay," she says back, lips pressing onto his cheek, then down on his neck again. "You look a bit uncomfortable." Her hand pulls at the fabric in his mouth, enough to get it out a little ways so his jaw isn't straining quite as much, but still enough to keep him from saying anything.

Faris bats his eyelashes downward when her finger strokes gently along his jaw, _there you go_ , the only way he's got to thank her for this. He feels so lost, like this, lost but not somehow, in how Rachel is rocking her hips steadily, maddeningly slowly. And how her lips keep kissing him on the big pulse point on his neck just above the collar, telling him soft words of how good he is, so good at staying still and obedient, and he looks so pretty all bruised up with her panties in the mouth, she says _panties_.

"Bet I could make you come just like this," she breathes at one point, when her one hand is adding more scratches to the ones already littering Faris' back and the knuckles of the other one keep brushing at the very low point of his abdomen and he doesn't need to look down to know she's bringing herself off with fingers on her clit. "Just talking to you and fucking you this slow."

There's still an edge to her voice when she says "fucking", like the catholic part of her still has some reservations about it. Faris can feel a twitch running through his cock at that, that and knowing that she's right, so he nods, slowly, slowly. His head is heavy and fuzzy and it might break off if he's not careful.

"But you're not going to come until I let you, right?" Rachel keeps going, her voice getting unsteady like it always does when she's close. Her hand pushes at Faris' shoulder, legs flexing around his hips so she can sit on his cock at a better angle.

Like this, he slides in that little bit deeper, where her walls are already quivering with about to come, and Faris groans and hopes the knickers will muffle it.

He gets a hand petting his hair for it, nails scratching at his scalp. "Not much longer now, it's okay," Rachel whispers, lips brushing soft over the corner of his mouth, all shivering and breathy.

And then it happens, she rocks her hips down hard once against her own touch and comes on his cock, breathing heavy and whimpering softly. Faris feels strangely cherished for it, fully knowing that he's got nothing to do with it, that she basically used his cock to help her get off and he's just lucky enough to get to watch. Rachel clenches heavily around his cock, like she's trying to milk the orgasm out of it despite her frantic little whispers of "not yet, don't come yet," and all he can do is clasp his hands together tight behind his back and focus on that strain. He keeps swallowing as good as he can, throat feeling gross with all that excess spit, and he whimpers, full on pathetic little gurgling whimpers that aren't muffled by the knickers in the least.

When it's over, when he's beginning to untense again, Rachel's whispering, "it's okay," onto his skin again, over and over.

It's not until he blinks that he notices he's got moisture collecting in his eyes once again, all tunnelled onto her voice guiding him, and the ache that's spread from his cock to his balls, too needy to come and too full.

"You're going to come soon, okay?"

Really, there's some part of him that knows he could come right now if he wanted, if he wasn't locking his muscles tight and swallowing down his own saliva to keep from focussing on his cock, if he didn't want to be a good boy for her. And so he nods, teary-eyed and slow and devoted, and gets fingers in his mouth for it, pushing those knickers deeper past the line of his teeth again.

Rachel pushes herself up against the whole length of his torso again, still warm even now that Faris feels so hot in his skin with that need to come. The material of her bra feels still stiff and scratchy, but now she's reaching for his wrist and slowly guiding it up and asking, "how about you help me take this off?"

She kisses the pulse point on his neck again, over and over, digs her teeth in a little bit, and she's still talking, soft and low but he can't make out what, too busy to try and get his hands to do what they're told to. Not allowed to use his hands unless he needs to sign out, Faris still has that ingrained somewhere into his thoughts, and here he's struggling to undo a bra which is difficult enough normally. Rachel's making him work for it, obviously, with her little whispered "don't you want to come for me?" and her fingers digging into his back again, holding herself in position just with her fingernails clawing into the flesh there. "Come on, do it for me."

Faris tries to bite down onto the fabric between his teeth when his fingers slip and curl uselessly again, until he does it and unhooks the clasp somehow. His head's so soft he doesn't register it at first, not until Rachel is stroking his back with soft fingers and easing his hands down behind him again one by one, shoving at his shoulders gently to motion for him to lie down.

"Come on," she's whispering again, but it's different this time, "Time to come now."

The mattress is cool against his skin when Faris spreads himself out on it, soothing to the scratchmarks, and his vision is getting fuzzy at the edges with just how much he needs. He needs to be allowed to come and needs more praise and needs everything, but he can still see Rachel in full detail her thighs straining where she's straddling him and still rolling her hips teasingly slow, and where the pink lips of her pussy are stretched around his cock. For a few moments, Faris watches himself slide in and out of her slowly, his own dick that's aching so much with that burning edge of orgasm. He wants more of that ache, wants to fuck back up into that squeeze she's putting on his cock, he would if his body wasn't pliant and limp, he's so close to coming but still so far away he needs to chase it. So much need.

Rachel plants her hands on his chest, fingers spread around Faris' sensitive nipples, and she starts to settle into a new rhythm, still just as slow but deeper, and only then she actually slides her bra off. Faris looks up at her breasts at first, watches them heave with the rhythm, and then he looks even further up at her face, all in control but still adoring, and soft with letting him have what he needs now. It's so much to Faris' fuzzy head he starts to swallow around the knickers again.

"Hey, relax." Rachel pinches at one bruised nipple. "Close your eyes."

And Faris does.

 


End file.
